Too Much is Never Enough
by Alliebeth
Summary: Picks up 3 months after AYITL ends. Rory is determined to get her life together, and that starts when she lands a publisher for her book. ROGAN, as always. More lighthearted than "Life After Coffee", with a different direction. ROGAN, humor, romance. [Title borrowed from song of the same name by Florence the Machine]. Thanks for reading!
1. Throw Me in the Deep End

**Chapter 1: Throw Me in the Deep End**

 **Hey guys, here is an alternate take on post-AYITL that's been taking up my head space. Don't worry, I'm planning on working on both this and Life After Coffee. Let me know what you think (Lyrics from Halsey's 'Coming Down') - Allie**

"Ready to go?" Lorelai appeared in the doorway to Rory's room.

"I think so," Rory swung a black duffel bag over her shoulder.

"Ha. Where's the rest of it?" Lorelai scanned the floor for more luggage.

"This is it. I'm packing light. Only the necessities." Rory replied, patting the medium sized bag.

"There is no way you fit all your stuff into that tiny thing." Lorelai said. She picked up Rory's hairdryer from her dresser. "What about this?"

"The hotel has one."

"What if it's out of order?"

"An out of order hair dryer?" Rory put her hands on her hips.

"You wouldn't expect it to be, which is exactly why you should bring an extra." She held the device out towards her daughter.

"In the unlikely event that the hypothetically out of order hair dryer can't be fixed, I'm sure I can manage." Rory grabbed her itinerary and passport off the bed.

"You say that now, but when you're all drippy and frizzy, you'll think to yourself, 'Gee, I wish I had listened to my mother and brought that backup hairdryer'," Lorelai warned.

"False. I would never use the word 'gee' in an inner monologue," She said, stepping out into the kitchen. "We need to get going or I'm going to miss my flight." Rory started towards the door.

"Late? Your plane doesn't leave for over 2 hours!" Lorelai replied, pulling on her boots reluctantly.

"Which is exactly enough time for you to get me to the airport, get through TSA and enjoy a Cinnabon." Rory replied with a smile as they exited and got in the Jeep.

"Are you sure you should be going?" Lorelai said, coercing the vehicle's engine to turn over.

"Yes, for the last time. I'm nowhere near the cutoff for flying." Rory huffed.

"That's not what I meant." Lorelai said, merging onto the highway.

"I know what you meant." Rory snapped.

"Hey, I'm just saying it's not too late to cancel this trip."

"You know I can't do that. It was hard enough to find a publisher willing to take on my book, let alone one that wasn't owned by...them." Rory looked out the window, watching Stars Hollow shrink into the distance.

"I get it. I just don't understand why you have to fly all the way to London just to meet with these people. Have they never heard of Skype? What kind of backwater publisher did you find anyway?" Lorelai rambled.

"Mom, this is a good thing. They want to start developing a promotional strategy for the book and I'll be meeting with the people that are going to make that happen." Rory explained. "They're really excited about me coming out. And the fact that they're paying for everything isn't too shabby, either." She reminded her.

"What if you run into him?" Lorelai put on her blinker as they neared the exit for the airport.

"London isn't Stars Hollow. It's a big city, and I'm only there for a few days. There's like a one in a million chance of us seeing each other. I'll take those odds." Rory checked her boarding pass again.

"You don't have the best luck, kid." Lorelai mused.

"Hmph."

"Seriously, though. What happened to 'telling him after 12 weeks'?" Lorelai asked, giving Rory the side-eye.

"I've been busy." Rory deflected. She hadn't quite gotten around to telling Logan Huntzberger that she was pregnant with his kid yet, and she was quickly running out of excuses to keep putting it off. First it was that she was just overwhelmed (which had been completely true at the time). Then it was she wanted to wait until after the first trimester had passed ("Why go through all that if something ends up happening?"). Rory was just over 16 weeks pregnant now, and so far her pregnancy had been completely textbook. Morning sickness had subsided a few weeks ago, her energy was returning and she was feeling really good. Her bump was growing more noticeable each week, but the crisp February weather afforded her the luxury of bulky sweaters and heavy winter coats to hide the changes that were taking place with her body.

Lorelai pulled up to the curb underneath the "Departures" sign and put the Jeep in park.

"You're sure?" She asked again. "Because I can turn this rig around and we can spend the rest of today in our Pjs watching _Breakfast at Tiffany's_."

Rory reached out and embraced Lorelai. "I'm sure. I'll call you when I get in." She planted a kiss on her mother's cheek.

Lorelai smiled and hugged her daughter back. "Okay, kid. Make sure your mom doesn't get into any trouble." She winked towards Rory's belly. Rory rolled her eyes.

"Bye, mom." Rory stepped out, duffel bag swung over one shoulder and laptop bag resting across her body diagonally, she made her way to the security line.

"...and when I asked him if he'd just switch me seats he _glared_ at me." Rory pressed the phone to her ear as she made her way through the crowded Heathrow airport. "Who glares at a pregnant woman?"

Lorelai said something on the other end of the line.

"No, I played it up. Did the whole hand on the belly thing. The pair of elderly women in the row across from us gave him the evil eye and he finally gave in." She emerged onto the sidewalk. Taxis and cars lined the walkway, waiting for their passengers.

"Exactly! If you're going to mutter under your breath about me getting up every twenty minutes to pee, then at least let me take the aisle seat." Rory scanned the lineup of vehicles. Her publisher, Arbor Publications, told her they would send her a car to take her to her hotel.

"Okay mom, gotta go. I think I see my ride," she made a beeline towards a driver holding a sign with her name on it. "Love you, too. Yes. No. See you next week." She disconnected the line.

"Hi, I'm Rory Gilmore. I think you're here for me?" She smiled, taking in the expensive-looking town car idling in front of her.

"Ah, very good Ms. Gilmore. I trust that your flight was pleasant?"

"Very good," she lied. "Thank you."

"May I take your luggage?" The driver held out his hands, but Rory declined. Nodding, he helped her into the town car and sped off towards downtown London.

* * *

"Are you sure?" Rory unrolled the window and peered up at the grand facade of the Strand Palace hotel.

"My instructions were to drop you here, miss." The driver opened the door and she stepped out, still in awe. She had been expecting the British equivalent of a Marriott. This hotel looked fit for the queen herself to stay in.

She shrugged. "If you say so."

Check in went smoothly, and before she knew it Rory was turning the handle to a suite on the tenth floor. She dropped her bags at the door and inspected the spacious room. King sized bed, separate sitting area, mini-kitchen. She flicked on the light to the bathroom and her jaw dropped. A sizable hot tub was situated in the far corner just past the double sinks set in marble. To her left was the biggest shower she had ever seen, equipped with more shower heads than it had any business having.

"This has to be some kind of mistake," she mumbled out loud. The publishing company had set everything up for her and clearly whoever had booked everything had mixed her up with another author. Some one who's book actually had an ISBN. 'Gilmore Girls' was still a pretty rough draft and going through rounds of edits and re-writes. It didn't even have a solid release date yet, and here she was being treated like the second coming of JK Rowling.

"Well, kid, mom always told me not to look a gift horse in the mouth." Rory patted her bump and opened up the menu to order room service.

After placing her order, Rory pulled back the tapestry-style curtains covering the window and peered out at the bustling city before her. She sighed, remembering the last time she had visited London. She had ridden around in nice cars and stayed at a fancy hotel then, too, courtesy of the Huntzberger empire.

This time is different, she told herself firmly. Rory had shopped her manuscript around to over a dozen publishers, actively avoiding anything even tangentially linked to Huntzberger Publishing. Half of them hadn't bothered to even reply. Four sent politely worded rejection letters. Of the three that agreed to meetings, one offered to pick up the book if she reworked it into a drug-store romance novel. The second wasn't actually interested in her book, but instead offered her an editing job, which she was considering until meeting number three. Arbor Books, a medium sized publishing group based in London, had cautiously offered her a modest book deal almost two months ago. She received a small stipend up front, but the contract stipulated most of her payment would be dependent on sales. It wasn't a perfect deal, but as a first-time author with relatively little experience, Rory jumped on it. The point was, after all, that she had done it all by herself with no help from Logan, or Mitchum Huntzberger or even Jess. This was as much about proving that she was capable of being successful and independent as it was about finding a lucrative avenue for her writing.

The first draft of 'Gilmore Girls' had been passed back and forth between her and her team of editors at Arbor until a workable version materialized. Now that they had a firm manuscript, the publisher flew her to their head office for a series of meetings that would go over their PR strategy as well as introduce her to some of the people who would help her through the rest of the publishing process. Usually, Rory communicated with a small team via email or Skype, but Arbor had insisted she make the trek across the pond at least once before her travel was restricted.

So, when Rory found herself being carted around town in a swanky ride, only to be dropped off at the nicest hotel she had ever stepped foot in, she was a little perplexed.

She grabbed her coat and stepped out onto the balcony adjacent to her room. It was chilly, each breath turning to frost before her eyes. Gripping the railing, she drank in the city lights and sounds. There was something special about this city. Rory closed her eyes and let the crisp air fill her lungs.

Just a few stories below, Logan Huntzberger stumbled out of a bar and into a taxi, a leggy blond in tow. She giggled as he pulled her onto his lap in the backseat. He quickly slurred an address to the driver and turned his attention back to his companion, planting kisses down the back of her neck.

She let out a small moan. The taxi driver's eyes flicked up to the rear view mirror for a moment, then focused doubly hard on the road. Logan laughed and moved his hand slightly higher up on her thigh. She uttered something in another language.

"I hope that translates to 'don't stop'," he smirked, breathing into her ear.

"Da." she replied.

 _Every single night pray the sun will rise  
Every single time make a compromise  
Every single night pray the sun will rise, but_

 _It's coming down, down, I'm coming down  
It's coming down, down, I'm coming down_


	2. Playing Nicely in the Fire

**Chapter 2: Playing Nicely in the Fire**

 **Chaaapter 2! *Loving* all the comments, faves and follows! You guys are the best :) I especially love that you guys noticed that the girl Logan was with at the end of Ch 1 was definitely not speaking French. All will be revealed...eventually ;)**

 **(Lyrics from Too much Is Never Enough - Florence and the Machine) - Allie**

* * *

" _And the crown it weighs heavy  
'Till it's banging on my eyelids  
Retreating in covers and closing the curtains  
One thing's for certain, oh  
A year like this passes so strangely  
Somewhere between sorrow and bliss" _

"Rory Gilmore here to see Ivan Marsden, please. I know I'm a little early." Rory smiled at the receptionist, who returned the gesture.

"Of course, welcome to London, Ms. Gilmore," she replied, typing. Her name tag said "Anne". She touched her headset and repeated Rory's previous words to the person on the other end.

Rory let her gaze wander around the lobby while she waited. Arbor Publications occupied two floors of an otherwise unremarkable office building in central London. The space wasn't overly large, but sleek, modern decorating gave the illusion that it was larger than it really was. The floor was covered in a shiny black tile, while the walls were a cool gray. Instead of chairs, the waiting area consisted of a settee and padded benches with alternating white and black cushions. One wall was entirely glass, while the other was covered in a huge painting of an icy landscape.

"Mr. Marsden is just finishing up with a client. He'll be down to meet you shortly, so please make yourself comfortable until then. Can I get you something to drink?" Anne asked, cheerfully.

"I'm fine, thanks," Rory set her her bag down and took up residence on the bench, her back to the window. She began to take off her coat, but the slight chill radiating from the glass prompted her to rethink the wardrobe change. She had just started scrolling through her phone when a familiar voice cut through the air. Rory's blood went cold in her veins as she looked up at the man approaching her.

"Rory Gilmore, as I live and breathe," he said, stopping a few feet from her. She stood, forcing a smile and thanking her lucky stars for the northern exposure.

"Mitchum. How _are_ you?" She replied, willing her voice to be even.

"Doing very well, thank you," He glanced over his shoulder then back at Rory. "Are you enjoying your suite at the Palace?" He asked. Rory bristled. Mitchum Huntzberger doesn't make idle small talk.

"I'm sorry?" She said, taken aback.

Mitchum motioned around the room. "They originally had you staying at a three star hotel, but I said 'that just won't do for our Rory' and insisted on the upgrade. I hope the room is to your liking?" He smiled, but it was more like a hyena's grin.

Rory swallowed, trying to think on her feet and hide just how much she was taken off guard. Rory had double- and triple-checked that the publisher had absolutely no ties to HPG before even taking an initial meeting. What the hell was Mitchum doing in the lobby of Arbor, and since when did he have a say in the quality of her accommodations? Maybe even more disconcerting was the fact that Mitchum had never been incredibly fond of Rory (at least not where her relationship with his son was concerned), and suddenly he was referring to her as 'our Rory'? Her list of questions kept growing, but she managed to come back to reality.

"It's very nice," she hedged, still unsure of the direction this conversation was taking.

"You know, Ivan is very protective of his authors and their manuscripts, but I was able to convince him to let me take a peek at yours and, if I'm being honest, that's what really sealed the deal for me." He continued, "I knew I was right about you, Rory Gilmore. Journalism was never in the cards for you, but being a book author – now that's an entirely different beast." Mitchum smiled a tight smile.

Rory wasn't sure if he had intended it as a backhanded compliment or just couldn't abide being any nicer than he had to be, but she stood there for what seemed like forever, mouth agape, trying to craft an appropriate response. Her usually razor-sharp wit was coming up short.

"Rory!" A bespectacled man in his mid-forties said cheerily from across the room. His expression contorted slightly when he realized who was standing next to her.

"Ivan." She breathed a sigh of relief. She was saved.

"Rory?" Another familiar voice echoed her name with a note of incredulity. A few steps behind Ivan, Logan Huntzberger stood, dressed smartly in a dark gray suit. He followed the other man over to the growing group.

Rory's hand twitched instinctively, but she stopped the motion before it could fly to her stomach. She swallowed and put on her best brave face. "Logan," she said as casually as she could. He took a place next to Mitchum in front of her, nodding and smiling an easy smile. She stood on her tip toes and peered over the wall of men for a moment, pretending to look for someone. "Is Honor going to step out of that broom closet? I feel like the whole Huntzberger clan suddenly appeared out of nowhere," she joked nervously.

Mitchum ignored her attempt to change the subject. "Logan, I was just telling Rory about how Huntzberger Publishing is in the process of acquiring Arbor Books." He added, "Logan is heading up the transition team."

"You were? He is?" She blurted out. Logan slid her a look that said "I'm sorry. We'll talk later."

She narrowed her eyes on Ivan.

"We just finished drawing up the contracts this morning," Ivan began. "All that's left to do is get the final okay from the lawyers and sign on the dotted line. I figured I'd wait to tell you the good news until I saw you in person today." Ivan knew that Rory had loved the idea that Arbor was an independent publisher in the age of billion-dollar conglomerates. She had also divulged that she and Logan Huntzberger used to be involved, keeping the sordid details to herself. Ivan's tone was apologetic.

"Anyway, I'll leave you to it," Mitchum nodded to Logan and Ivan. "Rory, I know you only planned to be in town a few days, but I do hope that you'll join us for lunch before you leave." He smiled his saber-toothed grin once more before taking his leave.

The three remaining parties stood in silence for a moment. Finally, Ivan spoke.

"Rory, would it be okay if we took a break for lunch before getting down to the nitty-gritty this afternoon? There was so much excitement this morning that I'm running a bit behind, and I want to wrap everything else up so that we can really focus on you while you're here."

"Sure," she finally replied. Logan eyed her with a sheepish smile.

"We usually order in-" Ivan began, but Logan cut him off.

"Rory and I are actually old friends. What do you say, Rory, catch up over lunch?" He said nonchalantly, adjusting his tie.

 _Friends._ The word stung Rory unexpectedly, even though she was sure Logan hadn't meant anything by it.

"That'd be great," she replied, determined to keep up the illusion of being perfectly okay with everything that had transpired in the last five minutes.

"Sounds great. See you back here in an hour." Ivan extended a hand to Logan. "Logan, looking forward to working with you." He headed towards the elevator.

And then they were alone.

Logan turned to her, raised his eyebrows and sighed. Rory just shook her head.

"Didn't think I'd ever get Mitchum-ed again," she sighed, picking up her bag. She was of course referring to the feeling of being totally verbally steamrolled by the elder Huntzberger, making her feel like she was twenty years old all over again.

Logan smiled. He had missed the steady stream of Rory-isms lately. "Yeah, I'm with you there." He gestured towards the elevator that would take them to the ground floor. "I'll tell you all about it over Thai."

" _Oh, you wondrous creature  
Coming up who we are  
'Cause I'm retreating in covers and closing the curtains  
One thing's for certain, oh  
A year like this passes so strangely  
Somewhere between sorrow and bliss"_

* * *

 **Poor Rory! Girl can't catch a break, huh? She just manages to scrounge up some solid ground and now she's having lunch with Logan. AND he still doesn't know she's pregnant! AHHH. Stay tuned for an update in the next few days :) Super excited for the next couple chapters!**


	3. Indecent Proposal

**Chapter 3: Indecent Proposal  
**

 **.goodness! I cannot believe how awesome you guys are. Thank you so much for your reviews, comments, faves and follows. I am sorry this took so long, but I hope you like it! This chapter was originally even LONGER, but I decided to move the rest into chapter 4, so that's already partly written. Expect it soon! -Allie**

" _Go take this the wrong way  
You knew who I was with every step that I ran to you  
Only blue or black days  
Electing strange perfections in any stranger I choose _

_Would things be easier if there was a right way  
Honey there is no right way"_

The pair walked silently through the city park, clutching their respective takeout containers. Even now, their steps couldn't help but fall in sync with one another. The air was still chilly, but the sun was high in the sky, casting a warming glow on the usually overcast city. They had decided to skip the crowded restaurant and go somewhere where they could talk in private. Logan pointed to a bench and they sat, side by side, and began to eat. After a few mouthfuls, Rory finally spoke.

"Okay, now that you've plied me with delicious Asian food, start 'splainin, Lucy." She twirled her fork in the noodles. Funnily enough, Thai food was exactly what she had been craving lately.

"Ahhh," he sighed, setting down his own container. Pop culture references were an inseparable part of Rory Gilmore's dictionary. "I'm not sure where to start," He admitted.

"You may start at the beginning and finish at the end," she quipped, taking another bite.

"In that case, I guess the beginning would be that Odette left me."

Rory coughed, nearly choking on a chunk of vegetable. She hadn't expected those to be the first words out of his mouth.

"You all right, Ace?" He smirked.

"Oh my God, Logan, I'm so sorry. What happened?" She said, barely hiding her interest.

"She eloped with some artist guy she met in Prague. I don't even know his name, just that his shtick is painting really tiny pictures. It's been, oh...almost a month now?" He said entirely too nonchalantly.

"Tiny pictures? Like on itty bitty canvases? That's a thing?" Rory made a face.

"Apparently, yes, that is a thing." He half-smiled.

"How are you holding up?" She involuntarily put a hand on his knee.

"I'm great. You know, embracing my newfound freedom and everything. Living the bachelor life." He tossed his empty container in the nearby trash bin.

Rory swallowed. "Right, of course." Rory flashed back to when she and Logan had first met at Yale. Back then, he had never been one to spend more than one night with the same girl. Before she came along, that is.

"How about you?" He changed topics.

"Oh, you know, living the fast life in Stars Hollow," She deflected. "But we can talk about me later. It's almost time for me to head back to Arbor, and you haven't actually told me what the hell is going on over there. Why did Mitchum bum rush me in the lobby this morning?" She pointed her fork at him accusingly.

"Congrats on the book deal, by the way."

"Logan." She huffed.

He took a deep breath and explained that HPG was doing exceedingly well in the newspaper business, but that his father had been looking to diversify for a while, and finally settled on book publishing. Arbor was a strong choice; they were doing well enough, but lately their sales had been a little flat, a sign that they would entertain the idea of an acquisition. Mitchum himself had done the actual negotiating (a rare occurrence these days, to be sure), and Logan was being brought in, at his father's behest, to analyze their current business model and dealings and incorporate any necessary changes. Effective tomorrow, Arbor Publishing was his new home office.

"Did you know?" She asked pointedly once he had finished.

"Know what?" He feigned innocence.

"That this was _my_ publisher." She accused.

"Not until recently, no. I didn't even know you were going to be in town." He said, truthfully.

"Did you read it?" She asked, gingerly.

"Your manuscript? No, no way! I had the chance, but I didn't want to spoil myself for the finished product. Or get too self-conscious." He winked. "Tell me one thing though, I'm dying to know – what did you change my name to?"

"Brogan Shmuntzherder," She replied, matter-of-factly. They both erupted in laughter.

"Ah, how clever! No one will ever suspect." He joked.

"I take journalistic anonymity very seriously." Rory stood, adjusting her bag over her shoulder. "I should be getting back. I have a lot to talk about with Ivan."

"Don't be too hard on him. When Mitchum wants something, there's not a whole lot you can do about it. Trust me, I know." There was a wisp of sadness in his voice. Rory chose to ignore it.

Rory pursed her lips and nodded. "Yeah, I know. I'll be gentle." She lingered for a moment, unsure of what to say. Goodbye? See you later? See you tomorrow? I'm carrying your illegitimate child? There were just so many options. He interrupted her thoughts before she could decide.

"Hey, what are you doing tonight?" he asked, running a hand through his hair.

"No specific plans," she shrugged. Her heart picked up a few beats per minute.

"What do you say we get together, then? My place? You know all about what I've been up to, but we haven't talked about the life and times of Rory Gilmore in a while." He shoved his hands in his pockets. Suddenly Logan seemed very tense.

"Sure, why not." She said without even thinking.

"Great. I'll send a car for you around...six?"

"Ok."

"Ok."

"See you tonight."

"See you tonight, Ace." Logan's posture relaxed a small amount.

They separated, each going in different directions. Rory couldn't help but stop and look over her shoulder after Logan. He was walking briskly down the stone pathway, head up and with what she swore was a grin plastered across his face.

* * *

Rory sat quietly, sifting through her notes and setting up a comfortable work space at the large conference room table. The door latch clicked behind her.

"On a scale of one to murder, how are we feeling about this?" Ivan sat down a few chairs away from Rory. His bald head was shiny with sweat and his complexion was a little green. "Because if you're tending towards the latter, I should really tell David where I stashed my will."

Rory sighed. "I get why you did it, especially after talking with Logan. I just wish that you would have told me sooner. Maybe before I was ambushed in the lobby this morning?" She added, a bit hurt, "I thought we were friends. You invited me to your wedding, for god's sake."

"I know, I know. I feel absolutely terrible. If I could have told you I would have. But the non-disclosure agreement on the whole thing was air-tight. I was honestly surprised Mitchum even told you before everything was completely finalized." He raised an eyebrow.

"We go way back." Rory muttered, resting her hand on her fist. "He told me you let him read it," she said sourly.

"It was apparently a 'deal breaker', although I can't imagine why – no offense intended. I just mean that your book is still in the early stages of publishing," he added quickly. "Rory, I'm sorry. I know I violated your trust, not just as your publisher but as your friend. Can you forgive me? Can you still work with me?" Ivan pleaded, cleaning his glasses.

"Like I said, I get it. What's done is done. Water under the bridge. Candle in the wind. So, let's just move forward." She said sincerely.

"Thank you," he replied, letting loose a deep breath.

"So, Logan's your boss now, huh?" She added conversationally.

Ivan raised an eyebrow. "Technically speaking, yes. He seems like a good guy, if I'm being honest. Although only time will tell, I suppose. I've heard he can be a real hard ass."

Rory swiveled her chair to face Ivan. Her expression suddenly turned deadly.

"Ivan, did you tell anyone at HPG about me being pregnant?"

Ivan shook his head repeatedly. "No, no, absolutely not."

Rory breathed a sigh of relief. Her hand rubbed her small baby bump, a habit she had developed lately whenever she was worked up about something.

"If you're worried about any kind of discrimination with the new leadership, I can assure you that..." Ivan stopped short, something very important and suddenly very obvious dawning on him.

"That's a Huntzberger baby in there, isn't it?" He said pointedly, sitting forward on his elbows.

Rory closed her eyes, still rubbing her belly. "Yes," she admitted.

"Logan's, I hope." Ivan said, only half-joking.

"Oh, God, Ivan! Gross! Yes, it's Logan's." She made a disgusted face.

"Hey, you can't blame me," he pointed at her. "Those Huntzberger boys are known to get around."

Ivan instantly regretted the words and backpedaled. "I did not mean that like it sounded!"

"He doesn't know." Rory admitted.

"I figured as much. When are you going to tell him? Are you going to tell him?" Ivan questioned.

"I kept meaning to, but I got really good at inventing reasons to keep putting it off. So I didn't." Rory slumped back in her seat. "I'm seeing him tonight."

"Seeing him or _seeing him?_ " Ivan raised an eyebrow, always the gossip. Rory rolled her eyes.

Truthfully, she wasn't sure what was going to happen when they met up tonight. If she'd have the guts to announce her pregnancy to him in person. She always assumed she would break the news over the phone, or, on particularly bad days, through an email. Face to face was something entirely different. She dreaded having to watch all the tiny changes in his expression and body language as he absorbed the life-changing news.

"We've been over for a while." Rory said simply.

"If you say so, Gilmore. But it seems to me like the universe just keeps bringing you two back together. Maybe you should listen."

Rory chewed the end of her pencil. Cutting all contact with Logan had been her grand plan, and it seemed to work, at first. Until she found out that she was pregnant; until he glided back into her life again today. With the news that Odette was out of the picture, a small part of her couldn't help but wonder why he hadn't told her. Had he done exactly what she asked him to and forgotten about her entirely? Rory accepted that she would never truly be over Logan, baby or no baby. He had claimed a piece of her heart over a decade ago, and although their relationship had become unbearably complicated, she knew that she would never be able give that piece away to anybody else. Even so, she forced herself through each day. Now, looking back on the past few months, she couldn't decide if she did this just to follow through with her words out of stubbornness or if this was something she really wanted. These kinds of thoughts made her uncomfortable.

* * *

Rory tried on every piece of clothing she brought with her for the trip (which, admittedly, was not very much), but nothing felt right. She cursed her decision to pack light. She wanted to strike a balance between looking attractive, but also concealing any trace of her baby bump. The two requirements seemed to be sternly at odds with one another tonight. Rory checked the clock – it was almost five thirty. Her meeting with Ivan, after they had gotten through all the awkwardness, had been incredibly productive, but had run until past well past four o'clock. Now she found herself with her hair and makeup finished, but nothing to wear and not enough time to go buy something new. She settled on an over sized camel-color sweater dress with a deep V-neck. One perk of being pregnant was that her breasts inflated from a small B to a full C cup, and the cut of the neck highlighted her newfound cleavage. She checked herself in the mirror. The empire waist and A-line fit of the dress hid her bump well enough. Paired with black leggings and riding boots, she looked casual yet sexy. Sexier than she had looked in months, she admitted to herself.

Despite the outfit, Rory wasn't sure what she wanted from Logan, or what he was prepared to give to her. She wasn't sure if the desire to look good tonight was more for her or him, either. It was all very frustrating. The phone rang, letting her know that a car had arrived for her. She put on her favorite red trench coat and flannel scarf, and headed downstairs.

Rory stepped out onto the sidewalk and the icy air immediately bit into her lungs. The sun had long since gone down, giving way to short winter days, and with it all the warmth of earlier. The driver opened the backseat door for her and she climbed in, thankful for the wave of warmth that hit enveloped her.

"Hello, again, Rory." A voice came from the seat across from her. Startled, she let out a small shriek and felt the blood rush to her head. Her instinct was to get out of the car and run, but by then it had already begun to move.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to startle you," Mitchum said, somewhat apologetically.

"You have a very funny way of showing it," she replied, heart rate decelerating slightly. "Logan didn't mention that you'd be chaperoning tonight."

"Logan doesn't know I'm speaking with you, and it should stay that way," He began, cryptically.

"I'm not sure what this is all about, but-" she began, irritated. He held out a piece of paper to her before she could finish. She took it carefully. It was a tabloid newspaper.

"Read it," he urged, waiting.

Rory studied the front page. The headline immediately caught her eye: "Newspaper Heir Turns Playboy Post-Breakup". She swallowed, turning to the specified page. She was met with a full spread article about Logan and his recent serial dating all over London. There were pictures of at least five different women, all purported to be models or actresses or just a pretty face that caught his eye at a nightclub. She turned it back to the front and checked the date; this was from today.

"So, what?" She said, trying not to think about what she had just read.

"I'm going to be frank with you, Rory, because I appreciate that you're not the kind of girl to beat around the bush," Mitchum began. "Logan is...spiraling out. That paper was from today, but I could show you two or three others from the past few weeks that say pretty much the same thing. He's burning through women faster than he did when he was twenty years old, and nothing I do or say seems to impress upon him that it is unacceptable."

"Logan is a grown man. What he does with his personal life is up to him." Rory said blankly.

"To an extent, yes. He's grown a lot since college, I'll give him that. I would just disown him if I think that would be the best solution. But I don't think it is."

The car turned a corner. Rory recognized some of the street names. Only a few more blocks until they reached Logan's townhouse. She didn't respond.

"You were always a good influence on him, Rory. When he started getting serious with you was when he also started getting serious about his obligations and his career. Now he's floundering, and I think its because he needs you back in his life," Mitchum paused. "Preferably in a romantic capacity, although I'll take what I can get."

Rory was stunned. She knew Mitchum didn't always play by the rules, but asking her to shack up with his son so to keep him out of the papers was way below the belt. She felt the fire creep up her cheeks.

"You're nuts," she blurted. "Logan and I are finished. We have been for a long time," she said, trying to sound convincing. She wasn't sure if Mitchum had ever deduced that they were still seeing each other when they met at lunch that day, months ago.

"Rory, come now. You know and I know that that's not the truth. I see how you two look at each other, interact." His tone was patronizing, which infuriated her even more. "Plus the fact that you're even in this car right now means that there's something there. All I'm asking is that you explore that possibility."

The car pulled to a stop in front of Logan's place.

"I'm going to tell him all of this," were the only words she could come up with.

Mitchum shrugged. "I don't think you will. I think we both want the same things for Logan."

Before she could respond, the driver had opened the door for her. She looked back and forth between Mitchum and the curb, deciding whether to argue or run.

"Goodnight, Rory. See you soon!" He called as she stepped out of the car.

* * *

 **I am so sorry this took me so long! This week was NUTS at work. I have a friend staying this weekend, but I'm hoping to get some more writing done. Stay tuned! -Allie**


	4. No Rest for the Wicked

**Chapter 4: No Rest for the Wicked**

"Ace!" Logan answered the door brightly, dressed in black pants and a long-sleeved, hunter green Henley that clung to the outlines of his biceps. Whatever he had been doing lately, it certainly hadn't interfered with his gym routine. He ushered her in. The fire was roaring, but the room wasn't overly toasty. For this Rory was glad – pregnancy had readjusted her internal thermostat a few degrees higher these days; she was almost always hot.

"What do you want to drink? I've got scotch." He said, walking towards the mini-bar.

Rory contemplated for a moment, taking off her coat and scarf and draping it on a nearby recliner. "I'll have whatever you're having," she said absentmindedly. Her head was still reeling from the surprise meeting with Mitchum in the car.

Logan returned with two glasses, handing one to Rory and taking a shot of his own. As they settled almost automatically into the couch cushions, she realized too late that he'd definitely notice her lack of drinking.

"Thanks," she said, setting hers directly on the coffee table. Logan looked puzzled.

"Don't make me drink alone, Ace." He joked, taking another swallow.

She considered Mitchum's words. What did she want for Logan? For herself? For their child? She felt like Mitchum's proposal had effectively backed her into a corner. On the one hand, if she decided to try to patch things up with Logan, she would be doing exactly what Mitchum had asked. Even if it was something she had been strongly considering before their talk, she would still feel like she was following his orders. If Logan ever found out, he would be pissed that his father had interfered, but also question why exactly Rory came back to him after so sternly insisting they part ways forever. Conversely, if she spent the night making small talk and polite conversation, she knew in her heart that Logan would almost certainly continue his streak of supermodels. All this conjecture was causing a dull throb to emanate from the back of her skull.

Rory knew a decision had to be made, one way or the other. How she wished she could down that scotch.

"Oh, that's not for me. It's for you." She said, folding her hands in her lap. Before he could question what she meant, she continued.

"I'm pregnant."

The only sounds in the room were the fire crackling lively in the fireplace and the muffled noises of cars and people racing past on the street below.

Rory studied Logan's face. To anyone else, it would have appeared calm, impassive. But she knew his tells – the tiny lines that appeared on the bridge of his nose, the way he opened and closed his free hand. When he finally ran his hand through his hair, she knew he was in shock.

She reached over and handed him the extra glass. He looked down at it, then back at her, before knocking it back.

"Good. You're freaking out. I was afraid you'd be all calm and weird about it," she tried to smile.

"Mmhm," was all Logan could say. The tidal wave of scotch still burned his throat. He thought about the number of steps between him and the bar. Between him and the door – but just for a moment.

"You're sure?" It was a stupid question, but the only words he could form right now.

"I'm sixteen weeks. Almost seventeen now, I guess." She said, hoping he'd be able to do the math in his head.

Logan knew whatever he said next had the potential to screw things up really badly between he and Rory. He sifted through his brain, trying to find the right thing to say.

"Do you need another drink? Here, let me get you something!" Rory hopped up, grabbing the empty glass and hurriedly walked to the bar.

Logan took her in as she prepared the drink. She looked like the same Rory that had ejected him from her life over three months ago. His eyes trailed down her body, only now noticing how the cut of her dress revealed considerably more cleavage than he remembered. And maybe he was imagining it, but when she turned to the side, he could almost make out a small bulge under the sway of her skirt. He noticed how her skin, always practically flawless, seemed to have an added luminosity to it.

She handed him the drink and took up her previous position on the couch, although now she was fidgeting nervously. Instead of knocking the liquid back just as fast as the last one, Logan set it on the table.

"I don't want anything from you. I want you to know what. The only thing I wanted was for you to know, and now you know. So, that's all," she rambled.

Any doubt that Logan had about it being his child that Rory was carrying was dispelled, not only by her words but the fact that he remembered their last night together in New Hampshire in detail, and a detail lacking that night had been a condom. He had always been so careful, but the whirlwind night had caused him to let his guard down.

"Why are you just telling me this now?" He asked.

Rory swallowed. "Because I'm a wuss," she answered truthfully. "When I first found out I was a mess. By the time I got myself together, it was just easier to keep putting it off."

"I'm surprised Lorelai hasn't hunted me down yet," he half-joked.

"This isn't all on you. I'm just as much at fault," she admitted. "Just...there's more." She braced herself for his reaction.

"Don't tell me we're having twins?" He said, although it was more like a groan than speaking.

"No! No, only one bun in this oven," she replied quickly. He relaxed a tiny fraction. "Your father was waiting in the car tonight when it picked me up from the hotel."

Logan perked up. "What?"

"Yeah. He...he told me how he thinks you're 'spiraling'," she tried to hammer the concern out of her voice. "He showed me an article..."

Logan groaned for real this time, finally taking a hit from the glass he had set aside.

"My old man needs to keep his nose out of my business," Logan replied, the fire returning for the first time since Rory broke the big news. "I work my ass off for him, never miss work, early to every meeting. It's not his concern what I do with my personal life."

"Oh, I pretty much told him where he could shove it," she nodded.

"Good."

"He didn't want me to tell you. He all but ordered me to seduce you, you know," she tried to make light of Mitchum's demands.

"Seriously? God, Rory, I'm sorry. I knew he wasn't happy with me, but to go to you to try to get to me? That's low even for him."

"He cares about you, in his own twisted way."

"Yeah, well, he'll sure as hell be getting an earful about this tomorrow, trust me," Logan threatened, downing the last of his third scotch.

"I care about you, too." She said quietly. There it was, out in the open.

"If people care about me so much, why do I keep getting thrown away?" He directed his gaze at Rory.

Rory's heart plummeted. This conversation had just taken a turn she wasn't expecting, and she wasn't sure how to respond.

"I mean it. My parents, I get," Logan stood up and started pacing slowly in front of her as he spoke. "I've always been the black sheep of our family, so I'm used to them taking interest in what I'm doing one minute then disappearing the next. Then you and I had this great thing, and suddenly you're saying it's not what you want, that I'm not what you want. And I took it in stride, as best a twenty-something could have a stride, and put you away in a little box and moved on with my life." He waved his hands, his voice getting slightly louder as he went on. Rory suspected the scotch had definitely gone to his head. Even though she dreaded where his train of thought was heading, she listened quietly. Without realizing it, she had started to rub her belly.

"Now, we've done that dance twice, Rory, and it seems like I'm the only one worse for wear. Shit, even Odette, who has all the personality of a park bench, threw me away at the first chance she got!"

"Logan..."

"So you know what I do? I go out. I pick a nice looking girl, and I take her home for the night. We have fun and the next morning I send _her_ packing. I don't even want know their names. Trust me, I know how fucked up that sounds. I have all this money, all this power, and what has it gotten me?"

Tears started to well up in Rory's eyes, but she bit her tongue, trying to resist gravity itself from making them fall. Logan was hurting, that much was abundantly clear, and whether time or distance was the culprit, she was at a total loss on how to comfort him.

"So, forgive me, Rory, if I'm a little confused when you tell me you care about me. I'm surprised you're actually still on my couch. I would have thought you would be halfway out the door by now." He glanced down at her, noticing her hand on her abdomen. His look softened a little.

Rory knew she deserved most of his words, even though they stung like lemon juice in paper cuts you didn't know you had. For all her accomplishments, Rory Gilmore had a selfish streak that she just couldn't seem to break. Most people dismissed it, but Logan had always called her out on it. It was one of the ways that they had worked so well together, before everything had come crashing to the ground.

Even so, this was all a little much more than she could take. In the span of ten minutes, her world was heaved upside down, and it took every ounce of her not to lash right back out at Logan for his tirade.

"Okay. Well, I appreciate your honesty," she sniffed, gathering her coat. "I accomplished what I came here to do. I'll see myself out." She was gone so quickly, he didn't have a chance to even respond. Logan expected the door to slam shut; instead, Rory turned the knob, leaving the apartment with barely a sound. Her scarf, forgotten in the rush, lay scattered on the floor.

* * *

 **A short but important chapter, I know a lot of you have been waiting for this. How did you like it? Did it go as you pictured? What happens now? Stay tuned, and as always keep your reviews and comments coming. I love reading them, they make me think! - Allie**


	5. Don't Leave Me Hanging

**Chapter 5: Don't Leave Me Hanging**

 _In. Out. In. Out. In..._

Rory forced her mind to focus on a normal pattern of breathing. She got halfway down the stairs before she started taking them two at a time, desperate to put space between her and Logan as quickly as humanly possible. The heel of her boot caught on the edge of a step, and suddenly she was sliding, flailing, then falling. She screamed.

She landed squarely on her rear end, but the back of her head struck the wrought-iron handrail, causing an echo of metallic reverberation in the otherwise empty stairwell.

"RORY?" Logan yelled, bursting out into the hall. He had come after her just in time to see her fall, and a terrified look spread across his face.

"Nngh," she replied, rubbing the back of her head. It felt warm and damp. She caught sight of him and immediately tried to get up – to flee – but instead she saw stars. Futilely, she put a hand up, "I'm fine. Go back inside."

He was beside her now. Her eyes were closed in an attempt to steady her vision, but she could feel his warmth, smell his cologne. It made her head spin more and she cursed under her breath.

"You hit your head. Are you okay? We need to get you checked out." His hands moved hers to the side as he inspected the back of her skull. His tone was so different from just a few moments before; all the venom was gone and the only things left were concern and a pinch of fear. She hated that a tiny part of her liked that he was scared.

"I slipped on the stairs and took a tumble. It's fine. I do it all the time," she lied, trying to get him to leave her alone. He was the last person she wanted near her right now.

"There's blood," Logan said, whipping out his phone and dialing 9-1-1. "I'm calling for an ambulance."

Normally Rory would have protested more, but now that there was more than just herself to worry about, she decided to give it up. He had already made the call, and her head was starting to really throb.

"Oh!" She said suddenly, hand flying to her stomach.

"What is it? What's wrong?" Logan knelt down. He started to put his hand over hers but stopped himself short.

She waited a second, a smile turning up the corners of her mouth. "Oh!" she said again, letting out a small laugh. A few tears that had been waiting in the wings finally fell.

"What is it?" Logan asked desperately. She grabbed his hand and put it on her belly in the spot her own had just occupied a moment before. They waited. Nothing happened.

Logan didn't move. It dawned on him that on the other side of Rory's skin was his child, growing inside her. He got so wrapped up in his emotions earlier that he almost completely forgot that he was going to be a father.

"I think the baby moved," Rory explained, still half crying, half laughing.

"Oh, yeah? Has it done that before?" Logan asked, genuinely interested.

She shook her head. "Not yet. I think the fall startled it." She looked at Logan's hand, still on her stomach. "I don't know what I was thinking, you probably can't feel anything on the outside yet," she said, sheepishly.

"Er...yeah, you're probably right." He withdrew his hand quickly.

They sat together for a moment. Sirens sounded in the distance; the ambulance would be here soon.

"I should get checked out. For the baby," she conceded.

"You smacked yourself pretty good there, Ace," he said simply. He preoccupied himself with checking on the lump developing on the back of her head. The bleeding had mostly stopped. The sirens were very close now. Something could be said for the response time of British emergency services, he thought to himself.

"Will you stay with me?" she asked, "On the way to the hospital, I mean?" Rory clarified quickly. "I don't know anything about how this works here. Will they even take my insurance?"

"Of course. Don't worry about anything. I'll take care of it. You just try to relax, okay?"

"Okay," she said tentatively.

Flashing lights appeared outside, distorted by the frosted glass of the front door.

Logan sat impatiently in the waiting area of the emergency room. He mentally cataloged the movements of each one of the hospital staff as they flitted to and from the nursing station, then disappeared back behind a set of sturdy security doors. He checked his watch again; it had been forty-eight minutes since Rory was taken back to get checked out. She seemed fine when they arrived, but he was starting to worry what was taking so long. He tried to remind himself that the emergency department was a slow-moving creature, regardless of what side of the Atlantic you happened to be on. Plus, he was sure that at least a few people in the waiting room were eyeing him with interest. _Everyone reads the tabloids_ , he thought to himself. He tried to push the thought of this mysterious hospital visit somehow making the news out of his brain.

After nearly an hour alone with nothing but his dying phone and his own thoughts to keep him company, he was desperate to talk to her, to make things right after his outburst. Despite the kernels of truth contained within his blowup, he had been an ass, and he knew it. That's why he ran after her moments after she left, only to find her crumpled at the bottom of the stairwell. His heart jumped straight into his throat when he saw her there, a series of worst case scenarios running through his brain. He hadn't actually thought about the baby until after he already reached her on the stairs – all he instinctively cared about was her well being. The rest was an afterthought, although he could feel that was already changing.

"Gilmore?" the nurse called in a throaty, scratchy voice. She peered over her square rimmed glasses, scanning the room full of people. Logan stood.

"This way, please," she said, barely looking up from the chart she was holding. They zig-zagged through what seemed like endless corridors full of exam rooms, Logan just a few steps behind.

"How is she?" He tried to ask as they turned yet another corner. She either didn't hear him or was ignoring him, because the nurse didn't answer. Logan was just about to ask again when they finally stopped outside an exam room. The nurse knocked and immediately entered unceremoniously.

"Logan!" Rory was seated on the exam table, legs dangling over the edge, dressed in a hospital gown. Her cheeks were a little rosier than usual, but otherwise she seemed calm and steady. Logan breathed a sigh of relief.

"Heey," He walked in and immediately took her hand. "How are you doing?"

Rory looked down, her hand in his. She couldn't doubt that it felt nice having Logan near again, but the total one-eighty from earlier this evening was giving her whiplash. His concern gave her the 'warm and fuzzies', but she knew that they had a lot to talk about. Later.

"Tired of getting poked and prodded," she sighed. "A couple of nurses and the regular doctor have been in already, but I'm still waiting for the obstetrician to give me the all clear." Before she could continue, a young woman wearning ocean-blue scrubs and bright pink sneakers waltzed in. She had dark hair pulled up in a messy bun and a cheery smile.

"Hello, there. I'm Dr. Morse, the OB on-call tonight." She sat down on a wheeled stool and opened up a small netbook computer. "Lorelai Gilmore? Date of birth 10/8/84?" She asked.

"I go by Rory," she corrected, "but yes, that's me."

"Thank you. Let's take a look here..." the doctor made a series of clicks on the computer before setting it aside and turning to face Rory and Logan. His hand was still around hers.

"It looks like the preliminary exams came out normal. We couldn't find any bleeding and the baby's heartbeat is in the normal range. I am going to do an ultrasound just to confirm that everything looks good on the inside, but I'm not expecting to find anything wrong. Just standard procedure."

"Okay." Rory replied weakly. She really hated doctors, and Logan could tell she was starting to turn pale. He gave her shoulder a squeeze with his free hand.

"As for your head injury, it appears to be a superficial laceration," she continued as she opened a cabinet to gather supplies.

"Does she have a concussion?" Logan asked.

"We can't completely rule out a mild concussion," Dr Morse turned to Rory. "Because of that, you need to be monitored for the next 24 hours. Either someone needs to stay with you at home or we can keep you overnight if that isn't possible."

Logan felt Rory tense at the thought of spending an entire night in the hospital, let alone in a foreign country.

"I'll stay with her," he replied.

"What about work?," she protested immediately. "Tomorrow is your first day at Arbor. How will that look?"

"It's no big deal, I'm sure Ivan will be happy to have me start Monday. It won't delay anything," he reassured her.

"People will ask why..." she started, suddenly hyper aware that their conversation was not at all private.

"Rory, I'm taking the day off to take care of you, and that's that."

She took a deep breath, trying to push away the feelings of anxiety that had started to rise up in her chest. Partially because she knew word of Logan's sudden day off would get back to Mitchum immediately, and partially because she was wary of depending on anyone but herself these days. After drifting for so long, she had finally clawed her way up to some solid ground, and giving up any of her newly minted independence – even if it was for a medical reason - was more difficult than she anticipated. There was also the fact that no matter what, spending 24 hours alone with Logan was going to be awkward.

"Fine," she pouted. "Thank you."

"Lie back, please. This might be a little cold, so I apologize in advance." The doctor proceeded to drape Rory in green paper sheets, exposing only her stomach, on which she squirted a thick, clear gel. She wasted no time booting up the machine and began to roll the wand around on Rory's abdomen.

Logan suddenly became uncomfortable. Even though he has touched every inch of Rory's body a thousand times over, he felt like he needed her explicit permission to even look at her exposed belly right now. Instead, he focused on the black screen, trying to decipher the blurry shapes.

Rory giggled, clapping a hand over her mouth. "Sorry, it always tickles a little."

"No problem, I get that complaint pretty frequently," Dr. Morse mused. She turned her eyes on Logan.

"Is this the Daddy?" she asked expectantly.

Rory drew in a sharp breath, ready to interject, but she didn't have the chance. Logan, much to her astonishment, didn't miss a beat before answering.

"Yep, that's me," he said, firmly. Rory looked up at him, studying his face. He wasn't exactly beaming, but a small smile had formed on his lips. She looked back towards the screen before he could notice. A lump had formed in her throat inexplicably. She felt him squeeze her hand tighter. The conversation they were due to have later on was certainly going to be a doozy.

"As I expected, everything looks really good. Your placenta is exactly where it should be, and I can see baby moving around quite a bit. You're measuring at 17 weeks, 2 days, which is consistent with the due date you told us."

Logan looked down at Rory. She deciphered the question in his eyes immediately.

"July 14th."

"Yep, you are right on track for that." The doctor turned towards them. "Now, it looks like this little peanut is feeling cooperative tonight, so if you'd like me to tell you the sex, I can," she offered.

"Really?" Rory questioned, "I thought they couldn't tell that until my 20 week appointment."

Dr. Morse shrugged. "It just depends on if they want to cooperate or not. Usually by 20 weeks it's pretty definite, but I've seen enough on this sonogram to be comfortable calling it. Or not, if you were planning on keeping it a surprise."

The pair looked at each other simultaneously. For going from learning he had fathered a child to being asked if he'd like to know the sex of said child in less than a few hours, he was oddly calm. "What do you think? Should we find out?," she asked tentatively.

"It's totally up to you," he replied. "But...I think it'd be pretty cool to walk out of here knowing if we're having a boy or a girl," he added. Rory contemplated his words for a moment. _We,_ he said. As in both of them, as in together. She willed herself to stop romanticizing everything he said, to stop reading into things that may or may not be there. She turned back to Dr. Morse and nodded "Okay, let's do it."

Dr. Morse moved the wand around and made a few clicks on the screen, zooming in and putting a marker on the screen. "You see that right there?," she pointed.

They both squinted, trying to see what she was talking about. Neither of them admitted all they saw were blobby shapes joined together by more blobby shapes.

"Congratulations, you're having a little boy."

* * *

 **I went back and forth about whether I wanted to get this dramatic or not, but after writing a few paragraphs, it just felt like the right way to take the story. We'll see what happens when Logan and Rory have to spend the next 24 hours cooped up together. Thanks so much for all your reviews, comments, faves and follows! I really treasure your feedback :) - Allie**


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